


Keep your promises, they might just save your life

by Blue_Pluto



Series: keep them close [1]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Carlos de Vil-centric, Child Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Multi, Protective Evie (Disney), Protective Jay, Protective Mal (Disney), Sick Fic, and carlos dosen't think they care about him yet, and the others finding out how bad she actually is, and then he gets sick and they prove him wrong!!, bc it takes place a few mounths after they became freinds, bc theyre kinda little but chap 2 theyll b older and a bit more shippy, he's 10 the rest are 11, idfk how to tag, idfk how to tag blease help, im so sorry yall sjsjda, implied polyamory, ish, its a fun mix of like dark ass abusive bs and then them like comforting him and taking care of him, its cute, its kinda him centric but its all other's povs? at least the first chap, kinda how they get together but its only sorta mentioned really offhandedly, kissing on the like cheek/forhead, not w/ their parents, second chap deals w/ how cruella is an abusive hoe, second will be his pov, the hideout is the core 4's home, they are each other's home...., they're 13-14 in chap 2, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-08-14 05:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20187403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Pluto/pseuds/Blue_Pluto
Summary: Evie first met Carlos when they were both rather small. Their mothers were as close to friends one got on the Isle, and they seemed to want the same for their children.She didn’t remember much about their time together, it was so long ago, but she remembered his bright smile, and how he could read even before her.She was glad to have that back in her life, caught somewhere between pleasant nostalgia and feelings for Carlos and the others that wouldn't be understood for a few more years.But, for right now, she was eleven years old and had three friends that wouldn't call themselves that because of their own stupid pride, and she loved them all, both in a way she understood and one she didn’t.So, like any loving friend, she’d check on her friends from time to time.Because Carlos hadn't been in school that day, and no matter what she did, she couldn't quell the fear pooling in her stomach. So, stopping by his house to check on him was normal, right?===================================================Carlos doesn't really understand how much he means to his friends. He gets really sick, and they make things really clear.





	1. make your promise

**Author's Note:**

> TW!!!! for discussions of child abuse for basically the whole thing bc its like a huge theme. ty for reading

Carlos de Vil had always been the weakest of the bunch, the runt of the litter, so to speak. He may only have been a year younger than the rest of his grade, and the majority of the “first generation” of villain kids, but he was a lot smaller, and a lot more frail. He jumped at loud noises, his voice shook on the rare occasions he spoke, and he could never seem to look anyone in the eye. He was soft, and on the Isle, that's as good as dead. 

It made sense that he was so much softer, in a way. He didn’t start going to school like the rest of them until last year, when he was nine and Mal was ten. He’d spent most of his life hidden away in Hell Hall, protected in a way the rest of them weren't. Sure, he could be seen around the Isle occasionally, but he wasn't like the rest of them, didn’t know how to fight or steal, didn’t understand how social interactions work, who’s territories were whose, and who he should fear. He was soft because his mother protected him, and the way he acted showed it. It made sense. 

Until she looked a little deeper. 

There was always something off about him, little things that didn't_ fit_. Yen Sid would ask who stole chemicals from the lab, and his body would tense, ever so slightly, until someone else seemed to take the blame. There was the way he’d finish a test in seconds, ignoring it to sketch in his own notebook, then not turning it in until everyone else already had. _ (He always got a C, exactly 75%, never anything else.) _

He may not have seemed like an isle kid at first glance, too small and weak, but there were things that gave it away. The way he’d look around a room, check it for weak points and exits like the rest of them. And the way he could run, faster and more graceful than even herself, maybe even faster than Jay, fleeing from others on the rare occasions people picked on him. _ (No one really bugged him, it was too easy, and an easy target was boring.) _

And his eyes were the same as the rest of them, even though with all logic they should be different. They should be softer, like the rest of him seemed to be. But instead they were hardened, some sort of fire always burning in them, even though he’d always avert his gaze when she looked at him. When anyone looked at him, really. _ (It was the same fire that burned in her eyes. And Jay’s and Evie’s and any other Isle kid who saw more horrors than should exist. But he never had, so why did the fire burn in him too?) _

The more she thought about him, the more Mal realized she knew hardly anything about him. These little things she’d only begun to pick up now, but she had too look close for them, and never learned anything about him in the months after he arrived. He always fell into the background, was underfoot if you looked close enough, but no one really noticed him. They didn’t pay attention to him, or anything he did. _ (He could do whatever he wanted, really, he could be doing anything and no one would notice unless he was caught in the act. But there was nothing for him to be caught doing, right?) _

The closer you looked, the more Carlos de Vil became a bundle of contradictions. Always swaying on his feet, looking seconds from keeling over, then able to run and escape danger like it was what he was born to do. Answering every question with the wrong answer, yet sketching complex machinery in the margins of his papers. Getting the shit kicked out of him on those rare occasions he got caught, and_ hiding _it like a pro, rather than acting like the crybaby everyone thought him to be. 

He was a pretty good actor. Or more accurately, liar. 

But liars weren't hated on the Isle, they were celebrated. They were _ useful_. 

So, Mal put herself closer to him. She’d sit with him at lunch and in classes, Jay and Evie following with little more than a raised eyebrow for question, and approach him when she saw him out of school. He seemed suspicious at first, not quite as terrified as one would expect him to be. (He only looked scared at certain things. Loud noises and people grabbing him and the smell of smoke. It started to make sense, at least a little, why he was the way he was.) 

Eventually, they just kinda fell into something like an arrangement, but different. He’d fix things for them, and grab stuff and do deliveries and that kind of bullshit, and they’d protect him in return. But the lines started to blur as he began going on raids with them and laughing with them at lunch, joining in their fun. When Evie started going with him to help with menial tasks, and Jay would steal stuff because he thought Carlos would like it, and Mal would go a little too far defending him from some idiots. 

He slowly became part of their group, worming his way into their hearts with bright laughs and brilliant rambling.

He became one of them. 

-=+=-

Jay’s relationship with Carlos was somewhere between bumpy, and the easiest thing in the world. Bumpy because the first time they met, he robbed the younger boy. Not that there was that much of an age difference between them, it just felt like there was.

But it was so easy too. Because Carlos had chased him down the street, following him to the roof of a building, demanding his pin back with something wild in his eyes. And Jay had laughed, because this kid was at least three inches shorter than him and skinnier than the needle of his pin. 

He laughed, and he tossed back the pin, running off again with a small salute. It was hard to give a good reason why he gave it back, maybe the blond had just been too easy of a hit, maybe it had just been so ridiculous that he looked ready to fight Jay with his stick-thin arms. 

The closest thing he could pin down to a real answer was Carlos’s eyes. They burned with the same fire as everyone’s on the Isle’s, but they were so much brighter, burned so much stronger, Jay felt like he’d give the kid anything he asked for. 

He didn’t end up seeing Carlos again for weeks, not for a lack of trying, until he walked into school one day, ignoring the board in favor of his notebook. And it wasn't even until months after that when they finally got to talk again, Mal deciding one day to sit with him on a whim. 

From there, it developed naturally. He became part of their crew, Carlos turned to C, he slowly became more comfortable with Jay’s physical affection like girls, and it was _ great_. They were four kids, all barely into double digits, and they ruled their world. 

-=+=-

Evie first met Carlos when they were both rather small. Their mothers were as close to friends one got on the Isle, and they seemed to want the same for their children. Or, at least, for their children to have “decent” company, still masquerading as the higher class they weren't. 

She didn’t remember much about their time together, it was so long ago, but she remembered his bright smile, and how he could read even before her. 

She was glad to have that back in her life, caught somewhere between pleasant nostalgia and feelings for Carlos and the others that wouldn't be understood for a few more years. 

But, for right now, she was eleven years old and had three friends that wouldn't call themselves that because of their own stupid pride, and she loved them all, both in a way she understood and one she didn’t. 

So, like any loving friend, she’d check on her friends from time to time. That was normal, right? 

Because Carlos hadn't been in school that day, and no matter what she did, she couldn't quell the fear pooling in her stomach. So, stopping by his house to check on him was normal, right? It was kind and polite and princess-like, just as her mother instructed her to be.

Evie pursed her lips, walking up to Hell Hall, attempting to dispel the anxiety of her mother’s expectations as she knocked on the door. There came the noise of stomping and shouting from inside, loud and angry, distant in the large house. Evie’s eyebrows furrowed. She supposed that villains weren't all that hospitable, many made it clear they wanted _no_ company from their fellow prisoners, but Cruella had always at least seemed to be polite and sociable. 

Then again, Evie, Mal, and Jay had a number of suspicions about Cruella's true nature, and that was likely another part of her facade. Evie didn't want to believe that their suspicions were true, not because she cared for Cruella or her character in any way, but because the thought of anyone hurting any of her friends filled her with rage.

As Cruella grew closer her words became more clear, snapping Evie out of her musings, the implications of her words making Evie's stomach churn with anger. “_Brat_, if you have so much as a _ sniffle _I’m locking- Oh.” Cruella cut off her own shrinking, opening the door with a slam, recognizing the girl previously behind it. Her whole body language shifted suddenly, going from hunched and angry to open and welcoming, her scowl melting into a forced smile. 

“Evie, how lovely to see you, dear. Is there anything I can help you with?” Cruella tidied her hair as she spoke, seemingly embarrassed that Evie saw her outburst, yet trying to play it off casually. Evie resisted the urge to tilt her head and squint at the women, a habit she’d picked up by somehow combining Jay and Mal’s mannerisms. Instead, she smiled wider, blinking at Cruella with large eyes. 

“Hello there Mrs. Cruella. I was looking for Carlos, is he around?” She asked, her voice as high and agreeable as she could manage. Cruella’s face soured slightly, scowling in distaste. Evie mentally filed that away, deciding to dwell on it later. 

Cruella leaned against the doorway, lips puckered and arms crossed. “I’m afraid he won’t be home for a few days. He tends to disappear sometimes, god only knows what he’s doing.” Cruella studied Evie as she spoke, expressing something like a mixture of disgust and apathy, as if the fact Evie was once again interacting with Carlos was a personal offense. Evie’s smile twitched, partly from discomfort, but mostly from worry. On the other occasions Carlos had ‘disappeared’ he’d been with her and the others. 

“Oh, well that’s unfortunate. I’ll be seeing you around then, miss.” Evie said, effectively cutting their interaction short. Cruella narrowed her eyes suspiciously but didn't question Evie, simply nodding and disappearing inside. 

Evie walked back down the path, turning back towards town when she reached the road, rather than to her home. She knew how to spot a liar, and while Cruella may not have been outright lying, she’d been hiding something, which did nothing to ease the fear festering in Evie's chest. 

She pulled out her phone/communicator/radio thing, (C had fashioned one out of spare parts for each of them), sending a quick message to Mal and Jay that Carlos was still MIA, and to be on the lookout for him. Both of the other two had been obviously worried too, and the fact that they were all getting the same bad feeling made Evie glad they ditched school to look for him. 

Evie held herself, shivering in the winter air. She glanced around as she walked, trying to spot familiar black and white hair on her way back to their hideout. Her thoughts drifted back to Cruella, and her growing distaste for the woman. Suppressed rage coiled in her stomach, burning her from the inside out. 

The rage she felt towards Cruella was more specific then what she'd felt towards, say, Harry or Uma, or any of the other VKs they got in fights with on a semiregular basis, basically anyone else who could hurt her friends. This rage was tinged with hopelessness, because she knew there was nothing she could do to end her friend's pain. It was the same rage she felt towards Maleficent and Jafar, knowing that she, and truly none of the VKs, no matter how invincible Mal and Jay seemed, could do anything about the violent adults on the Isle. All she could do was patch her friends up, and protect them from the lesser threats that infested the Isle. 

But even if she didn't want to belive their suspicions were true, or that the hurt any of her friends went to was painfully real, she wasn't an idiot, and wasn't going to live in denial. Especially if doing so would stop her from helping her friends if even a minuscule amount. 

(Although Mal often argued she lived in denial, not of their parent's cruelty, but of her own. But how could Evie compare her mother to the others, who were violent and abusive? So what if her mom denied her food most nights, and she had to rely on the others to eat? So what if her mother did everything in her power to make her think herself ugly and worthless? Her oversensitivity was nothing in comparison to the horrors the others faced.) 

So caught up in her own thoughts, Evie almost missed the subject of them sitting curled in an alleyway. She slipped past him, then did a double take, spinning around to face the shivering boy. 

“Carlos!” She exclaimed, rushing up to the shorter boy. He sat curled against an ally wall, eyes glassy and face red. Evie ripped off her jacket, placing it around the boy’s shoulders. He was wearing the same clothes as the last time she saw him, minus the fur his mother would lend him as a coat. 

“Evie…?” He mumbled, squinting at her. 

“Yeah,” She breathed, eyes raking over him, looking for any injuries on top of his apparent illness. There was a large bruise on his face, something that made anger tug in her stomach, but besides that he seemed uninjured. 

He squinted up at her. “What’re you doin here?”

“Looking for you, what else would we be doing when you disappear with no notice?” Evie huffed, using faux annoyance to hide her concern. Carlos’s eyes widened, confusion glinting under the sick haze. 

“Why?” 

Evie frowned, leaning in closer to put a hand to his forehead. “You must be really sick if you’re asking stupid questions like that.” She said decisively, standing and reaching down to pull Carlos up with her, noticing that his clothes were wet. It had rained last night, and if what she thought was true, she may have to commit a murder. 

He immediately swayed on his feet, Evie wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him. Carlos was weird about physical contact, he never initiated it himself and it was hard to tell if he loved or hated it, so she tended to hold back on her instincts to touch and hold him like she did with the others. 

But seeing how out of it he was she allowed herself to make an exception, reveling in the ability to hold him, even if it was for less than ideal reasons. She was a villain afterall, she was allowed to be selfish. 

Carlos shivered in her hold, causing Evie’s frown to only grow. She took a moment to slide his arms into the sleeves of her jacket, ignoring the chill on her own skin as she zipped it closed. She pulled the hood up, tucking a few loose curls into it in an attempt to mask the identity of her sick friend. They may be young, but they already had plenty of enemies who would gladly take advantage of the situation to get back at any of them. 

Evie started down the street, pulling Carlos along with her, head ducked in hopes to stay unnoticed. 

“W’ere are we goin?” Carlos slurred, his head pressed against her shoulder. He was short enough that when Evie hunched he fit in perfectly to the crook of her neck. 

“The hideout.” She said quietly, eyes shifting around as they walked. It was easy to assume Carlos was avoiding his home for a reason, presumably the bitch people referred to as his mother, so going to any of their homes was out of the question. Not only would their parents alert his, but the adults of the Isle were a lot crueler than their children. Even if the kids were rough and dangerous, they still... _cared_ for one another. 

Obviously they cared for their close friends, but Evie had to admit she had a soft spot for even Uma and her crew, and knew that all the Isle kids had at least some interest in seeing the others alive. The adults didn’t have friends at all, unlike their children who only pretended not to, and took pride in hurting anyone who wasn't their flesh and blood. 

_ Or even their flesh and blood too, depending on the villain, _Evie thought bitterly. 

Carlos needed protection. Even if the other Isle kids didn’t want him dead, beating him up for fun or revenge wasn't out of the question. And the adult villains on the Isle would jump at the chance to hurt the defensless pre-teen. That is, if the freezing temperatures didn’t get to him first. 

So, Evie half-dragged half-led Carlos to their gang’s base, forcing him to lay on the ratty couch when they entered. He was really out of it, like _ scarily _ out of it, mumbling things that made no sense the whole way. And, occasionally, a complex chemical formula, which was rather adorable. 

After securing the exits, she rounded on the boy again, forcing him out of his wet and freezing clothes into some of the old ones Jay had stashed there for him. (He couldn't stash his own things, Cruella would notice, and be furious, so Jay’s hand-me-downs had to do.) 

Once Carlos was settled on the couch, layered under every suitable piece of fabric in the building and shoes replaced with all the dry socks she could find, Evie took a second to breathe, organizing her thoughts. 

Okay. Carlos was sick, like _really_ sick. That put him in danger because he was vulnerable to the other people on the Isle, but even more so to the lack of medical resources. No one on the Isle was vaccinated, and medicine was rarer and more precious than jewels. Illnesses that would be fixed within minutes in Auradon took more lives than outright violence and murder. 

The thought left a sour taste in Evie’s mouth, both in worry for her friend and anger at the “heroes” that left children to die. She forced the thoughts away, thinking about what could actually help. 

She knew at least a small amount about home remedies for illnesses, and could maybe get Carlos’s most recent invention working to connect her to Auradon’s internet and research more. But to do that she’d actually need to go get the invention, and that meant leaving Carlos alone… although, she would probably need to leave to get supplies anyway, since their best option was to hunker down for the next few days. Maybe she could ask Jay to go get it…? 

Evie almost slapped herself, realizing she’d completely forgotten to contact Mal and Jay, so caught up in caring for Carlos. She whipped out the communicator, calling Mal. 

“We’ve got nothing on our end.” Came the almost immediate response. To an outsider, Mal’s words likely seemed emotionally detached, almost cruel, but Evie could hear the other girl’s worry under her misleading tone. 

“Figures, since I found him.”

Mal exhaled into the phone, relieved. “Where?” 

“In an ally, really sick.” Mal inhaled sharply, understanding just as well as Evie how dangerous being sick was on the Isle. “I need you guys to get some supplies and meet me here, at the hideout. We’re gonna be ditching school for a few more days.” Evie joked, though there was little humor in her voice. 

“Text me a list, we’ll be there in an hour.” Mal ended the call abruptly, her voice again tight with worry. Evie sighed, not in any way frustrated with her friend, just worried herself. 

Evie glanced behind her, noise from the couch catching her attention. Carlos had begun thrashing and whining in his sleep, seemingly caught in a nightmare. 

Evie grimaced, reaching a hand out to smooth out the hair on the boy’s forehead. He calmed slightly at her touch, though not completely, still flinching at the phantoms in his mind. Caught somewhere between a smile and a frown, Evie gently lifted Carlos by his shoulders, slipping under him to sit on the couch and resting his head in her lap. 

She hummed a soft tune, petting him in the only form of comfort she could give right now. He slowly stilled his movements, falling into a deeper sleep, the only sounds in the hideout being his ragged breathing and Evie’s lullaby. 

-=+=-

Jay and Mal showed up long before the hour was finished, but left almost as quickly. They snuck in through one of the secret entrances, Jay narrowly missing the knife Evie had thrown at his head. 

After brushing off her whispered lecture, they each took a moment to check over Carlos themself, uneasy until they saw him breathing with their own eyes. 

Mal left soon after, gone to collect Carlos’s invention under Evie’s directions. Jay emptied his pockets onto the table, showing off the supplies he’d managed to scrounge up. Most of the things on Evie’s list were impossible to get, something Evie had known when she put it together, but he had managed to find half a box of crackers, some water, a bandanna, and some food for the three of them. 

Evie tied the bandana around her mouth and nose, using it as protection from catching Carlos’s illness. Jay went on several other small supply runs, not wanting to become too conspicuous lugging around a huge haul. By the time Evie made him stop he’d collected a bunch more food, more water, two more bandanas for him and Mal, and a flask of whiskey that they could hopefully use to disinfect their hands and stop the spread of germs, like makeshift hand sanitizer. 

Satisfied with what he’d brought, Evie switched places with Jay, going to help Mal transport the machine over. It took a while, the other girl insisting they take it apart and bring it over piece by piece to avoid suspicion. 

By the time they were done it was night, which thankfully worked to their advantage. Under the cover of darkness they snuck into Evie’s tower, bringing back a bag stuffed with blankets to keep both Carlos and themselves warm in the December night. 

The four stayed camped out in the hideout for the next few nights. They took shifts, one person protecting the others, one person taking care of Carlos, and one sleeping or working on something to try and help. 

As time went on, Carlos just seemed to get worse and worse. His fever didn’t let up, during the day they kept him under only a few thin blankets, only giving him a full blanket at night out of fear of hypothermia. They'd place fabric scraps dipped in lukewarm water on his face and neck in attempts to give him some relief.

But nothing helped, and he only became sicker and more incoherent. At first he’d wake up occasionally, and seem at least aware of what was going on, even if he was overly confused and sluggish. But soon even those moments of coherency left, and he’d whimper and scream, caught in his night terrors, whispering things that made the other’s blood boil. 

The only things that seemed to calm him were his friend's touch. There was always at least one of them holding him, oftentimes more. Evie would rub his ankle, sitting on the floor and working on his invention, while he sat curled to Jay’s chest as the older boy dozed, Mal’s hand stroking his hair as she kept guard.

The others never left his side. If they weren't sleeping, holding him, or keeping watch, they were either out gathering supplies, giving excuses to their parents, or working on his invention, tasks given to Jay, Mal, and Evie respectively. 

But even as they worked, the three became more and more frantic. Carlos was barely getting better. He hadn't eaten anything besides the few crackers Evie had coaxed him to while he was still coherent, and dehydration was a big fear. They could at least get him to drink something, but it was disorienting and scary, seeing him glassy-eyed, not even able to hold the bottle to his lips. 

-=+=-

“Fuck!” Evie shouted, throwing a screwdriver across the room, ignoring how it buried itself to the hilt in the wall as she hid her face in her hands. Jay tensed at her scream, shifting Carlos on his lap, Mal giving the three of them a quick glance before returning her gaze to the door. 

“I fucking can't do it. I can't get this stupid thing working and I have no idea how to help. Even if there was some cure, there's no way we could get to it. Fuck. _ Fuck_.” Evie breathed heavily, Mal and Jay’s silence pressing in on her. 

“Switch with me.” Jay broke the silence, voice deadly calm. 

“What?” Evie asked, turning to look up at him from where she was working on the floor. 

He met her gaze, uncharacteristically serious, his eyes almost cold. “Switch, now.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, scowling. “Why?” 

“I’m gonna go steal some meds.” Her eyes widened at his words. He looked away, not wanting to see the fear on her face. 

“Jay,_ no_.” She stood, grabbing his arm, careful of Carlos in his hold, whispering as to not wake him. “Frollo has a monopoly on all the medical shipments, if you managed to steal something, he’d send his goons to track you down and kill you. And there's no way we can afford his prices.” 

“I won’t let them see me. Switch.” His eyes met hers again, less guarded than before, fire burning bright in them enough to knock her breath away. 

“You can't.” Her voice cracked, but part of her wanted to let him go. She glanced down to Carlos, taking in his red face and labored breathing, then looked over to Mal, her eyes met with the other girl’s. The same fire was there, but it burned differently. Green, where Jay’s glinted red in his dark brown eyes. “Mal.” She pleaded weakly, needing the other to back her up, before she turned on even herself. 

“E’s right, Jay.” Jay’s head snapped to the side, meeting Mal’s gaze with a glare. He’d thought she’d back him up, not join Evie. Didn’t they see this was their only option? 

Mal frowned at him, eyes steady. “Frollo will figure it out, and he’ll have you killed. I think C’d be pretty pissed with you if you did that.” Jay clenched his fist, not looking away. Mal sighed. 

“I'll still let you go” 

“Mal!” Evie gasped, Jay’s face splitting into a grin instead. Mal held up a finger. 

“After, I try something first.” Jay’s grin went crooked, slipping down his face as his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Evie tilted her head in a way almost identical to him, through her eyes stared into Mal’s soul in a way only Evie could. 

Mal sighed. “Remember when the barrier flickered, nine months ago.”

“Yeah…?” Jay raised an eyebrow at her. 

“It didn’t just flicker, it broke, barley for a second, and then was up again.” 

Jay nodded slowly, an old puzzle piece clicking into place. 

“Those guys, with those machines, the ones from Aradon. They weren't checking us for any sort of undiscovered illness like they said, they were checking us for magic, to see who broke the barrier.” He snorted bitterly. “Makes sense, not like they'd ever care about us.” Evie bumped his leg with her knee, looking down at him. He shook his head, giving her a quick smile, before turning to address Mal again. 

“Either way, I don’t get what that has to do with right now. They didn’t find anything, and it's not like anyone could generate any magic, all the magic users have magic blockers sewn into their skin.” 

“All the adults, and the kids of any stupid enough to send a birth certificate to Aradon.” Evie said, looking at Mal, having pieced it together. “Mal….” 

The other girl nodded, mouth quirked into an almost nervous smile. “I have just enough stored, maybe… maybe I can help him.” 

Jay cleared his throat, almost self-conscious, placing his chin over Carlos’s head.

“That's incredible, but don’t you need a spell? Like one from a spellbook? Like the one your mother never takes off her person?” 

Mal’s smile grew, becoming less genuine, fake in the way it did when she lied about a limp or bruises on her throat, as she pulled the book out of seemingly nowhere.

“Mom shouldn’t leave her glass unattended.” She was smiling, but her eyes were just tired. Evie took a heaving breath, averting her eyes. 

Jay frowned at her, eyes hardening. The last time she left she’d said it was just to keep suspicion off them, but obviously she’d done something else. “And you say C’s gonna be mad at _ me _ for being a self-sacrificing idiot.” Mal shrugged, slipping the book into her jacket pocket. 

“I only get punished for the things I do, not the things I don’t. It's fine, Jay.” It was a low dig, but a necessary one. Jay sent her a dirty look, looking rightfully pissed. It was true, her mom only... _ punished _ her when she did something really wrong, something that _ really _ pissed her off. 

It wasn't like Jay, who’d get hit again and again, any time he didn’t bring back enough. He always argued she had it worse, coming to school with broken bones and injuries that took weeks to heal while he got bruises at the most, but she argued the opposite. She could count the time’s her mother hurt her on one hand, Jay had to deal with it practically every night. 

Evie was never around for those conversations. They made her anxious and guilty, and she’d insist over and over again the Evil Queen never hurt her. Mal knew that was far from the truth, even _if_ EQ had never put her hands on her daughter, the shit she said and did was enough. 

And it wasn’t hard to guess at least something was going on with Carlos and Cruella, but they didn’t know the details. Just the way C acted in general, flinching at every little thing, was enough to guess, but the things he’d said these past few days in his delirious state had confirmed their theories. 

Mal didn’t know if she could ever bring herself to kill anyone, but if she could, there were three people at the top of her list. 

She walked around the couch, leaning closer to check on Carlos, when Jay's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. 

“When she finds out, come here. Call me.” There was no debating in his voice. 

Mal nodded, trying to swallow around the thickness in her throat. He searched her eyes for a moment longer, worry broadcasted in his own, before releasing her, allowing her to look over Carlos, and pull out her mother’s spellbook. 

As she flipped through it Evie moved behind her, wrapping her arms around Mal’s waist. She pressed her face into Mal’s shoulder, her chest to Mal’s back, face almost shrouded by purple hair. 

Evie didn’t mention how Mal shook in her grasp, and Jay didn’t point out how her fingers stumbled as she flipped through the book, though he glared at a dent in the wall, his grip around Carlos tightening. 

“This is it,” Mal breathed, eyes skimming the page. Evie tightened her hold for a second, before stepping away. Jay repositioned Carlos to be lying on his back, head now resting on Jay’s lap rather than his chest, no longer curled into the other’s embrace. Mal held a hand barely an inch over Carlo’s knees, slowly moving up and down his body as she spoke. 

She spoke in a different language, almost melodic as she recited the spell. Neither Jay nor Evie knew much about Maleficent's magic, but this spell seemed distinctly different then what the witch would use normally. On the last word, Mal pushed down forcefully, jerking Carlos’s body though she never touched him. She stumbled backwards, caught by Evie. 

“You okay?” The other girl asked softly, eyes shining with concern. 

“Yeah,” Mal rubbed at her eyes, “Just a headache.” Evie nodded, though her hands didn’t leave. 

“Did it work?” Mal asked, staring at Carlos from where they stood, too tired to move even a step forward to touch him. 

“Yeah, he’s cooling down.” Jay smiled at her, first wide and relieved, then softer. “Switch?” 

She nodded, allowing Evie to lead her to the couch and place her in a half-sitting half-lying position, Jay shifting Carlos to rest on her instead. He seemed marginally better, his skin no longer burning to the touch, even if it was still too warm for her liking. She laid a hand on his back, feeling his heartbeat and chest fill with air. 

She fell asleep, Jay’s hand pushing back her hair, Evie’s leg pressed against her arm, her breathing syncing with the friend she’d saved. 

-=+=-

A few hours later, Mal awoke, Carlos pushing off her chest and onto the other side of the couch with a muffled scream. She sat up almost immediately, looking around for danger. When she saw none, her gaze caught on him, speechless with relief. 

His face was incredibly pale, and he still wheezed loudly with every breath, but he was_ awake, _ and his eyes held recognition rather than the glassy confusion that had held them these past few days. 

“You’re awake!” Evie leaped up from her seat on the floor, pulling Carlos into a hug. The color returned to his face rather quickly. Mal snorted, trying to hide her excitement behind a smirk. 

“Don’t scare us like that dude,” Jay grinned, wrapping an arm around Carlos's shoulder once Evie released him. “I don’t think the half a heart we have between us can stand it.” Evie giggled, only slightly hysterical. 

“I… what?” Carlos blinked at them, confused. 

“You've been sick for like four days, completely out of it with a fever.” Mal smacked his leg lightly. 

He raised both eyebrows at her, blinking owlishly. “Ow?” 

Mal huffed, crossing her arms and blowing hair out of her face, looking much closer to her eleven years of age. 

“That's for scaring us by getting sick for half a week, and disappearing on Wednesday.” Her face became serious, shifting into a real frown. “Evie found you half-dead in an ally, you idiot, why didn’t you come to one of us?” Jay and Evie’s expressions were similar, angry and worried but also somewhat vulnerable. 

Carlos looked between them, mouth opening once or twice like he was going to talk, then closing again. 

He looked down to his lap, playing with the fraying sleeves of Jay's old clothes. He bit his lip, not speaking for a long moment, but the others waited for him, giving him time to speak on his own terms. 

“I didn’t think you’d care.” He whispered it, soft, like it was his deepest shame. The other three stalled for a moment, surprised. 

Jay reacted first, sighing and pulling the other boy into an awkward side hug, the couch between them. Carlos stiffened, but didn’t pull away like he normally would. 

“Mal’s right, you’re an idiot.” 

Evie joined in from the other side. 

“Yeah, a huge idiot.” 

Carlos blinked up at them, half a smile on his face. His gaze met Mal’s, then quickly shifted away. She rolled her eyes, reaching across to pull him away from their friends and into a hug. 

“You joined our gang for your big brain, start acting like it.” He blinked at her, eyes wide and shocked, then finally softened, melting into her embrace.

“I didn’t realize I was a part of the group…” He whispered, just loud enough for others to hear. 

“You go with us on raids, make all our tech, eat lunch with us, what the hell did you think you were?” Jay shook his head, smiling, and placed a hand on Carlos’s back. Evie’s hand joined, gently rubbing Carlos’s back. 

“We’re friends, right?” She asked, voice soft. He nodded, the motion jerky and awkward, his face still pressed into Mal’s shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, just existing. Together. 

“Get off before you make me sick.” Mal shoved Carlos gently, smiling softly. He returned it shyly, and sat up almost reluctantly, looking sheepish. “You probably don’t have to worry about that? I'm pretty sure I only got so sick from sleeping in the rain… not that the rain can make you sick, but I kinda was already, and it just made my immune system so weak…” he trailed off, looking embarrassed. Mal looked at him, waiting. Jay placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Why were you sleeping in the rain?”

Carlos shrugged, not hard enough to knock off Jay’s hand. He was looking down at his hands again. Evie took one gently. 

“Mom always kicks me out if I’m sick. I had a bit of a cold, coughed in front of her one too many times.” He laughed humorlessly. “Not that I can blame her though, being sick here isn’t great.” His eyes were trained on his free hand in his lap, completely still. 

“Does she do anything else?” Mal’s voice was filled with cold anger. Carlos shook his head, still not looking any of them in the eye. 

“N-nothing bad. Maybe a light slap, o-or making me skip a few meals to keep my figure, but that's it.” It was easy to tell he was lying, but none of them called him on it. 

Mal took his free hand, and he flinched slightly, then slowly looked up, meeting her eyes. 

“We get it.” His eyes widened, but didn’t leave hers. “If we can help, or if she does some real bad shit, you come to us, okay? We look out for our own, and your one of us.” Carlos smiled, nodding at her. 

“Promise.”


	2. keep it close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW!!!! descriptions of child abuse, like alot more graphic than the last chapter, please be careful its not like awful but its still not great ajssadladlk. also kinda description of a panic attack? it wasn't meant to be a panic attack but it ended up being pretty darn close....

Saying that Cruella was an abusive ass bitch was somewhere between and understatement, and the only polite way too put it. It also happened to be what the others called her, on those rare nights when Carlos could escape for a few hours into one of their arms and pretend that he didn’t need to be back by sun up to finish his chores. 

She’d always been like that, as far back as he could remember. She’d been trying to mold him into the ‘perfect son’ from a young age, basically since he was born. She chose everything for him, his clothes, how his hair looked, how he spent his time, who he spent it with. Everything. She controlled his whole life, her claws sunk deep into every part. 

And if he tried to refuse? Tried to chose anything for himself, tried to be a person for _three fucking seconds_? She’d scream. And hit. _And burn and cut and throw heavy things_ _and once he was down she’d kick until he couldn't breath anymore again and again and it hurt so bad why was this happening to him-_

So, he did what he was told. He did ten thousand chores a day, slept in the back of her closet with nothing more than a lump of cloth that could barely be called a mattress, and never complained, at least not in front of her. Part of him was humiliated, he could kick back against a dozen kids twice his size, no matter how slim he knew his odds of getting out alive to be, but when a frail woman almost 60 years of age took to slashing at his skin, he froze, unable to do anything but take it. 

Then again, the other part of him understood, reminded him of the scars he already had, the times he almost didn’t make it to the next day, and he decided that a bit of humiliation was worth it to stay in one piece. 

Carlos was abused. Cruella was abusive. We covered that already, right? Everyone got it. 

Because of Cruella’s _ stellar _ parenting, his self esteem was... low. It was something he was trying to work on, but an irrefutable fact. He didn't know anyone outside his household for a long time, something done by his mother’s design, so he had only her opinion on him to shape his own. 

His first friend was Evie, meeting her when they both could barely walk. Her friendship barely counted before he joined the crew, only existing because she took his hand smiling and asked him to be her friend, and he found himself compelled to say yes. 

They slowly grew apart, his mother demanding he do more and more, allowing him less time with the other child. He didn't have anyone else until Mal and the rest just showed up one day and never left. 

He’d met each of them before actually, Evie under obvious circumstances, but the others by chance in… less pleasant situations, and their reputations preceded them anyway. So, when they just showed up one day, acting like they were friends when the only one he had even close to that kind of relationship with was Evie it was... strange. 

At first, he thought they were playing some kinda long con, befriending him to get into his mother’s home and steal whatever they wanted. It seemed like the only logical explanation, Cruella had some items that could sell for at least a decent price, and why else would they be speaking to him? 

Part of it hurt, he’d liked Evie, and it almost felt like a betrayal, but he couldn't say it really was. They’d known each other as small children, and his mother had forced them to cut off contact before he was 6, his own memories of her were hazy at best. It didn’t make sense to be betrayed by her trying to survive. And honestly, the only reason he felt like that was because he knew his mother would blame him and _flip the fuck out_, which they didn’t know about, so it wasn't fair to demonize them for it. Honestly, he couldn't care less if they robbed his mother, if it wasn't for the fact she’d take it out on him. She’d always loved her furs more, after all. 

But, the weeks turned into months, and that explanation didn’t make sense anymore. He started doing stuff for them and joining them on raids, and he guessed they had an arrangement? It seemed like one, at least. He’d make things and do stuff for them, and he got protected.

Although, it didn’t make sense _ why _they were in an arrangement. The only things he could figure was that they found him amusing, or pitied him. He was clearly weaker than the rest of their grade, and basically everyone else on the Isle, even some of the kids younger than him.

The thought of their pity made anger curl in his stomach, but... also hurt. He wasn't some kicked puppy, or at least, he didn’t want to be. Looking at the ways he acted… yeah. _ Stupid little Carlos de Vil, can’t even make friends without them pitying you. _

Especially since, over time, he started to care for the others. Like _ really _ care for them. He had a whole bag of things he scavenged to give Evie for her designs, he’d yell at Jay to take care of himself, and he even punched Gil for saying shit about Mal. (The last one was probably an idiotic thing, since Uma came after him the next day, and then Mal went after her, and it was a shitty situation all around. At least now they were mostly even, caught in more of a standoff-mutual-dislike-sometimes-alliance thing than full out war.)

So, he cared about the other three. A lot. And the thought that they didn’t really care back, just kept him around like an amusing little kicked puppy, one that was fun to play with every once and a while but you couldn't get rid of it no matter how annoying it was because you felt too guilty, hurt. (Not that he loved the idea of being compared to a rabid animal, but whatever. His mom might have been an abusive bitch, but she didn’t lie. No matter how much he wished she did some times.) 

But, he dealt with it. Because it was the first time he’d really cared for anything besides his inventions, and the hazy memory of friendship from when he and Evie were small. The pain in his chest was worth it, if he could just pretend they loved him like he loved them. 

And then, he realized that despite his inventions and likely high iq, he was an _ idiot_. When it came to emotional intelligence and social literacy, he was_ so freaking stupid_. Not that it was that much of a surprise that he could be so stupid, but it was definitely a surprise that _ his friends loved him back_. 

At first, he didn’t realize. Their conversation after he’d finally woken up after half a week of being sick had definitely been a wake up call, a slap in the face with something that should have been obvious. They cared about him. He was part of their crew. _ They were friends. _

But it wasn't until after that, until hazy memories that made his face flush red as a tomato (not that he’d ever seen one. Well a non-canned one), started clearing in his mind, that he realized they_ loved him_. 

And, that he was an idiot. Because once those memories came back, of Jay holding him close and Evie singing him lullabies and _ Mal freaking wasting magic to save his life holy shit-, _ he began to notice other things. Like the ways they’d reach for him in the past, shrinking away when he’d flinched, though now they followed through, holding him close instead. And the way they would frown when he said something self-deprecating, or virtually growl at a bruise on his face. And he wanted to just grab his past self and shake the kid, because how the hell hadn't he noticed before that they loved him?

Then again, it probably took him a while to accept it himself. He could remember doubting himself, wondering if the memories were just fake, a trick played on him by his own mind. But, over the next few months, he watched his friends, seeing how they became more open and touchy with him, more vulnerable to him too. Eventually, he couldn't deny it anymore. 

Now, he couldn't imagine ever thinking they didn’t love him

-=+=-

Carlos muffled a groan into his good arm, trying to blink the spots out of his vision. Everything _ hurt. _

His mother came home early today, and he’d only barely started on his chores, having been out with the others before. She’d been… _ upset_, to say the least. His mother was like a bomb, constantly filled to the brim with violent anger, just waiting for it to be pushed over the brim. 

He forced himself to move his arm from his face to the ground, pushing himself up while he cradled the broken one to his chest, reflex tears gathering in his eyes. He managed to get into a sitting position, sliding along the ground until his back was up against the wall. He muffled another groan of pain, old fear of being heard by Cruella catching his tongue, despite the fact that the woman had rushed out in a furious haze. 

Carlos took a shaky breath, willing his eyes to stop stinging. He wanted to cry, to just sob and let everything out for once. It was pathetic. He’d faced off against both villains and their children before, made a machine capable of momentarily stopping the barrier, and escaped death more times than he could count, but he was going to cry because he finally realized his mother didn’t love him? 

He was an idiot. He’d always knew that Cruella loved her furs more than him, she made it clear enough without literally starting it to him. 

But he hadn't realized she didn’t love him at all. 

He was _ so stupid. _ Holding onto the false idea this whole time, that she must have had at least some affection for him deep down. That she must have loved him even a little. 

That he was worth loving. 

Tears polled in his eyes, flowing down his face. He felt pathetic. He got the shit kicked out of him so bad he couldn't even pull himself off the kitchen floor, and that wasn't even what upset him the most. It wasn't the cracked rib or the gashes on his chest from her heels that made him cry now, but what she said when she hurt him.

He’d always known the reason he was kept around was nothing more than an investment, Cruella raising him to do the chores she no longer had servants to do for her, and to boost her image, projecting the idea that she had a perfect obedient child and was therefore better than everyone else. 

He was useful to her, and that's why she took care of him. Why he was even alive, not drowned in a well like an unwanted kitten. 

He’d just hoped, with stupid buried optimism that did nothing but bring pain, that at least over time she’d grown some attachment to him. 

Guess not though. It was just like she said. He was unlovable. 

He took another shaky breath, looking around the bloody room. Cruella’s words swirled in his mind, he was too dizzy and tired to force them away. 

_ “Obnoxious.” _

_ “Revolting.” _

_“Unlovable.”_

In joined his own pleas to his mother, rambled nonsense in attempts to appease her as she screamed and kicked, different memories running through his head, cut and forced together. 

_ “I’m sorry-” _

_ “You’re right I-” _

_ “-it's my fault-” _

_ “I’ll do better next time-” _

He cringed at the memories, mentally begging them to dissipate. He’d given up long ago on asking her not to hurt him, now he just tried to say what she wanted to hear, just to make the hurt shorter. 

The words flitted around his head, refusing to leave him be.

_ “Unlovable.” _ His mother’s voice taunted, malicious sneer heard even in his imagination. He shut his eyes painfully tight, trying to control his breathing as the room seemed to spin around him. 

_ That's _ _ bullshit _ _ C, don’t be an idiot. _ Mal's voice rang out in his mind. His breath caught in his throat. 

_ We love you. _ Evie’s smile flashed before his eyes, the special one that she only used when she was around just them, not the flirty one she used to con people. The real one. 

_ Yeah, idiot. _ He could almost imagine Jay swinging an arm around his shoulder, like he did any time they saw each other. Carlos huffed out something mixed between a sob and a laugh.

He wiped his eyes, mouth barely quirked into smiled, forcing himself to take a shaky breath. He steeled himself, getting his breathing under control, then grimaced, forcing himself to stand. He glanced at the blood on the floor, cringing at the future punishment to come from leaving it there. But that didn’t matter much now. 

He had a promise to keep. 

-=+=-

Okay, so. Walking halfway across the isle covered in blood, concussed, and with several fractured ribs? Awful idea. Like really, _ really _ bad idea. 

Honestly, the only reason he wasn't dead right was because people were still reeling from the recent team up between their gang and Uma’s crew, and thus were too scared of enduring their combined wrath. The raid had only happened a bit over a month ago, and people would soon realize their alliance was only temporary and go back to their normal level of fear of the separate gangs. 

Even though it would fade soon, it was nice for once, having his identity bring him safety rather than the danger it usually did. 

After a probably excessive amount of time, he came across the hideout, collapsing onto the ratty couch, the same one he’d spent days sick on nearly two years ago. He forced himself to pull out his phone, idly acknowledging he probably should have done this earlier, ignoring his shaking hands and blurry vision as he sent a message to the others. 

_ At hideout. Bring change and medkit. _

He dropped the phone right after, knowing the others wouldn't take the time to respond. Anxiety coiled in his stomach again, but he forced it down, not letting it manifest. 

The others… didn’t know how bad Cruella was. They knew what he let them, what he couldn't hide at first, then over time, he’d slowly let more information out. 

They’d never seen him without at least an undershirt on, there was no reason for them to. He was fast enough that he never got badly hurt on his chest or stomach(... as far as the knew...), so there was no need for them to force it off and stitch close a slash like what happened to the others in the past. And even though they lived on an island, they had no access to the ocean, or any body of water large enough to swim in. 

But, since none of them had ever seen his bare chest, they also never saw the collection of scars that marred it. (Collections rather similar to their own, another thing marking them all the same, yet different in little ways.) 

As far as the others knew, Cruella would give him a few good hits or kicks on a pretty regular basis, withhold food from him, and work him like a slave, which was enough to make them pretty pissed already. 

They didn’t know she beat the shit out of him all the fucking time, or that he ate so little his ribs showed, or about the cigarette burns that littered his body. Or that he slept at the back of her closet, and the scar marring his leg was actually from one of her bear traps. 

They didn’t know he had a _ C _ carved into his chest, marking him as his mother’s property after he was returned to her. (He tried to leave. She put out a bounty on his head, and the Isle was small enough he was found within a day, so young he didn’t yet have any protection.) 

They don't know how pathetic he was, letting his mother tear him apart bit by bit. 

(Because it was his fault, right? That he’d shut down when she hurt him, after years of abuse and not being able to fight back and just letting his mind go blank was his only defense. Now, he’s big enough to fight back, but can’t. Not against her. 

Or most adults, or anyone who smells like smoke or sounds too much like her, because she liked to ruin his life. Like when Evie’s fingernails were too sharp and scratched him and he couldn't breathe, so she had to dull them, and Jay had to start spraying himself with tossed out cologne to mask the break of his father’s smoke, and Mal had to tone down her yelling, because usually he was fine but some days it was all too much.)

“_You are _ _ not_ _ pathetic._” Jay had told him, on a day where he couldn't hide the bruises, forceful. _ “You’re one of us.” _

The half-formed panic attack died in his chest. He was one of them. They wouldn't reject him. 

His breathing evened out, and he fell into a fitful doze. 

-=+=-

He awoke to footsteps above him, as light of a sleeper as everyone else on the Isle. He tensed for a moment, then relaxed, recognizing the sound of the other’s steps as they entered through the secret entrance on the roof. 

Evie slipped in the room, dropping down from the trap door, eyes almost immediately landing on Carlos, widening in shock. 

He grinned at her crookedly. “Sup?” Two more people dropped down, and the three stared at him for a moment. 

“_Motherfucker_.” Jay swore, pushing past Evie to kneel beside him, Mal joining him not a second later, scowling. Evie shook herself, then hurried to catch up and kneel on Jay's other side. 

“Who did this?” Mal asked, voice deadly even, as she took his broken arm and began splinting it, easily recognizing what needed to be done. Next to her Jay wet a rag, handing it to Evie to clean the blood from Carlos’s face. They’d patched each other up enough times to know what to do. 

Carlos sighed, preparing himself for the inevitable freakout. “My mom.” He admitted. Mal’s nostrils flared, eyes glinting in the dark room. Jay’s shoulders tensed in sync with Evie’s jaw. None of them seemed all that surprised. 

“What the fuck.” Jay hissed, eyes raking over Carlos’s beaten body, struggling to contain his rage. The other’s surprise may have been muted, but their anger wasn’t. 

“Were you hiding this from us?” Mal asked, fury tinging her voice. Carlos couldn't tell if it was aimed at him or his mother. 

“Yeah.” Carlos admitted, unable to deny the obvious truth any longer. He felt a twinge of guilt at keeping something from them. It hadn't been a full lie, especially since he let them know bits of what was happening, but… he promised he’d always come when things were bad, and let's just say he may have at least... bent the promise. Or, at least the definition of “really bad”. 

The other three broke into a chorus of harsh whispers, equally worried and angry. 

“C, what the _ fuck _-” 

“-how often does-” 

“ -always tell you! Why didn’t you tell us?!” 

“Would you quiet down before someone hears you?!” Carlos hissed, their jumbled words making his headache much worse. The other’s silenced themselves, glaring at him with a mixture of hurt and disapproval on their faces, even as they continued patching him up. 

“Look,” He started, rubbing his face with his good hand, pain flaring through the broken one as he pushed off Jay’s arm. “I was scared you’d think I was weak. I know it’s a stupid fear,” He cut Jay off with a look, seeing the other boy prepare to rebuke the thought. 

“But years of my mothers brainwashing got me to think I’m disgusting, weak, worthless, _ unlovable, _ and a thousand other awful things._” _His voice became more and more bitter, practically spitting the words as he spoke, “So screw me if I was insecure.”

None of the others seemed to know what to say, and they fell into an awkward silence. Mal just frowned, still wrapping his arm, and Jay clenched and unclenched his fists again and again, not meeting Carlos’s eyes. Evie finally sighed, breaking the silence, and leaned forward to kiss Carlos’s forehead. 

“You’re none of those things, especially not unlovable.” 

“I know.” Carlos said, and he meant it. He looked at Jay, catching the other’s guilty gaze, and smiled softly, earning a nod and a small smile in return. He gently hit his leg against Mal’s side, her squeezing his ankle in response. 

“What do we have to deal with next?” Mal asked gruffly, finishing off the splint on his arm. Carlos cringed. 

“Uhh, promise you won’t freak out?” Mal raised an eyebrow at him. 

“My ribs are kinda broken.” 

“Why would we freak out at that?” Jay asked lowly, head tilted and eyes narrowed like he already knew the answer. Broken bones weren’t uncommon on the Isle, and not that big a deal, but none of them had seen Carlos without a shirt. They didn’t know what scars lay on his chest. 

Carlos sent him a slightly guilty smile, struggling to get his shirt off. Evie helped him, frowning, her breath catching in her throat when she saw his torso. 

Carlos’s chest was… not pretty. It was covered in scars, both old and new, a handful of bloody gashes scattered around. His body seemed like just one huge bruise, and he was skinny enough that his ribs were so prominent you could see where some broke and healed slightly off. 

Evie pushed past her initial shock, getting to work on cleaning off the blood and wrapping his torso to keep the newly cracked ribs in place. The other two just stared at him, Mal’s face blank with her rage and Jay’s expression overflowing with his own. Their eyes both focused on the same spot, a scar in the shape of a letter _ C _just below his collar bone. 

“Anything else you have to tell us?” Mal asked, words clipped, frozen from her icy fury. 

Carlos shrugged. “I sleep in the back of her fur closet. Which she protects with old bear traps. I memorized their placement years ago, but when I ran away she had her minions throw me in, and my leg got caught, which is why it's so fucked up. And why there’s a C on my chest. To mark me as her property.”

There was no point in lying to them anymore, and he didn’t want too. _(He was tired of it. Telling lies they barely believed, pretending like what happened to him wasn't real, acting like the pain didn't phase him. He just wanted to let his barriers down, be comforted for once. For someone to act like they cared. For someone to love him.)_

“I’m gonna fucking _kill her._” Jay growled, fists clenched. Mal nodded next to him, shoulders tense and ready to _hurt_. 

Carlos shot the two a look, somewhere between sad and fond, wanting to both cry and laugh. “You can’t.” 

“Why the fuck not?” Jay’s eyes glinted, meeting Carlos’s own. 

“Because you’ll end up dead.” Carlos said, voice thick. It wasn't a prediction, it was a fact. Cruella may be old, but she was fast and violent and had guards who would gladly kill for her. Neither Jay nor Mal could win. They may be Isle kids, but they were still just _kids_. Carlos’s chest felt heavy, like someone had poured cement into it. 

The other two stiffened, but stayed where they were. None of them could die, they’d sworn not to ages ago, swore they’d never leave each other like that. 

“Fuck.” Mal hissed, voice equally angry and defeated, eyes trained on the ground. Jay took her hand, and Carlos’s good one, breathing slowly and deeply, trying to keep himself under control. Carlos smiled sadly, intertwining their fingers. 

Evie finished cleaning him up, getting help from others when needed. (They got in each other's way if they worked all at once, so they took turns patching one another up.) Then she and Jay helped him into some fresh clothes, Evie promising to wash and repair the ones he’d been wearing. 

They ended up on the couch together, Carlos sitting on Jay’s lap, both his and Evie’s legs tangled on Mal’s. Jay wrapped his arms tight around Carlos, forcing the younger teen to press his head to Jay’s chest, the older’s chin resting on his head. He held Mal’s hand, the fae swiping patterns into the back of it with her thumb. 

“I gotta go soon.” Carlos admitted reluctantly. “I left a mess, and she’ll be pissed when I get back.” Mal shook her head, grip tightening. 

“It’s fine. I’ll go in a few minutes, even grab Gil and Harry to help if I need, they owe me a favor.” Carlos knew that probably wasn’t true, but the relief of not having to leave and go back was enough to halt his complaints. 

“Thanks,” He smiled at her, squeezing her hand. “I already dealt with her furs, don’t touch them. List is in my treehouse.” Mal nodded, glancing down at their joined hands. 

“Why are you letting us know now?” She asked. Jay’s gripped tightened around him marginally, and Evie sent him an almost guilty, both obviously wanting to know. 

Carlos shrugged. “I got sick of lying. There was no point in hiding it, all it did was leave me more vulnerable to my mother, and the only reason I hid it was because deep down I believed everything she said.” He averted his gaze, looking at his lap. “I still kinda do, I’m not gonna fix my fucked up brain in one night. But I also knew you guys loved me. And that you didn’t deserve to be lied too.“

He tilted his head up, smiling at her. “Besides, I made a promise. I figured it was time to keep it.” Mal smiled at him, squeezing his hand again. She detangled herself from their cuddle pile, Evie moving to take her place, and stood. 

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then left, going to track down some helpers and finish his chores. Carlos blushed bright red, glaring at Evie as she giggled at him. Jay huffed a laugh, and tilted his face to kiss the top of Carlos’s head, making him blush even brighter. 

“I hate you guys so much.” He groaned, shutting his eyes and pressing his ear to Jay’s chest. 

“Sure you do, pup.” Jay laughed. They sat in comfortable silence again for a while, just holding each other. Evie stroked his ankle much like Mal had with his hand before, eyes trained on the door.

They didn’t have to be quite as vigilant as of late, even without the extra fear from their short-lived alliance with Uma’s gang, their own group quickly gaining reputation and moving its way up through the ranks, more feared than even some of the adult’s gangs now. They were safe in their base now, their home, but old habits die hard. 

“Hey, C.” Evie spoke, breaking the quiet. 

“Hmm?” Carlos hummed, cracking an eye to look at her, suddenly realizing how tired he was. 

“Thanks for telling us.” He blinked at her, eyebrows furrowed. “So we can protect you.” She clarified, a soft smile on her face.

He huffed, closing his eyes again. “I can protect you guys too, I’m not a baby.” 

“Of course not,” Jay shifted under him. “We all take care of each other. That means you've got three people to protect, but also three people protecting you when shit hits the fan. Just let us take care of you for once instead of pretending you’re fine when you’re not, idiot.” Anger seeped in Jay’s voice near the end, legitimately upset. 

Carlos realized that was what Jay was most upset about. Carlos had hid something from them, something that could put him in serious danger no less, and none of the others knew, so they couldn't protect him. Or patch him up either, after most of the times it happened at least. 

Carlos nodded into Jay’s chest. “I’m sorry. I promise I won’t hide anything from you guys anymore.” Jay made a noise in the back of his throat, accepting both Carlos’s apology, and promise.

They settled again into a comfortable silence, safe with each other. Carlos allowed himself to drift off to sleep, knowing the others would protect him, and that it would soon be his job to do the same for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Please comment!!
> 
> Also! Do you guys wanna see a continuation of this? in this chap they're 12-13 and aren’t really together-together yet, even if they are really affectionate but I have a few ideas including that mentioned team up w/ Uma's crew + how they get together, and a few other ideas as well. 
> 
> (btw yeah no they're not together yet even though they do stuff like kiss each other on like the cheek and stuff. they're just young and close and emotions are hard and all they know is that they love each other they can't really tell if it's romantic or platonic. it's not sexual in any way they're kids please don’t make sexual comments thx ily)

**Author's Note:**

> please comment comments make me so happy and make it 20000X easier for me to motivate my self. please im begging
> 
> also c dosn't really remember much about the past few days in this scene but im gonna try to give like at least a summary of his thoughts in chap 2


End file.
